Psyched Out
by JoJo Panda
Summary: He bent down to my ear "Look. You're different and I know how that feels but hiding from it won't make it go away, so stop running from yourself. There's no point in having gifts if you don't use them." - Accepting Laura's fate as a mutant led her off the streets and into the capable hands of Charles Xavier, as well as those of a particular clawed feral...
1. My name's Laura and I'm a mutant

I don't own anything from the original X-Men comic or movie franchise as the characters are owned by them not me, this story is just a piece of my imagination that's stands outside of the base story for my own creative outlet. Although if you don't like it then don't blame me, you can blame the ones who created the original stuff! ;) :P

\- This is my first shot at fanfic and for those that have stuck with me from my previous account may recognise the story already, a few changes and updates have been made since then! I will do my best to stick at it in between my studies and uni work and fingers crossed you will all stay around for the ride! It's set in the alternate universe of DOFP and after the events of Apocalypse but you don't need to have seen it to read the story – will try and stay as canon as possible but very little is known about this alternate future reality so I may have to use a little creative leniency with this one!

I watched absentmindedly as the pen scrawled across the page, etching out lines without any real meaning or direction. Glancing back across the street my eyes sought out the activity in the small unassuming house over the road –that's always how it is, a picture of normality to anyone else until the heaven of routine and regularity is shattered. A large van had pulled up outside the house but moments ago and already a small boy, no older than 5 years of age, was being dragged out kicking and screaming through the front doors and towards the van. The two men "escorting" him weren't scary or intimidating, just normal people sent out to do the job. I wondered if they went home at the end of the day realising the pain they cause to people like us, the innocent lives they ruin daily. The parents were nowhere to be seen of course, the ones meant to always be there for you are always the first to betray you when it comes down to fear.

I'd seen scenes like this more times than I could count; a young naive child with no real understanding of the situation being forced into the harsh reality of today's society. It's not like there's a huge sign plastered on the van saying "Mutant Detainment" or that the house screams out "A MUTANT LIVES HERE!" but it's always just as obvious what is happening each time. The so called "mutant problem" had been growing rapidly since recent conflicts between the mutant extremist groups and clashes with the local government. I doubt it would end well; with threats of war hanging in the air all around.

I could have saved the boy if I'd wanted to, it doesn't take much. But I knew that eventually someone else would come to his aid. They normally don't take long. To be frank I don't quite see why that with all their strength and talents they couldn't intervene before their taken. I guess the distress of being taken away from home just amplifies their desperation for help that little bit more in order to be visible on their "in need of help" radar. _Lucky for some._

The van engine spluttered to a start and the boy's screams dissipated into cries before fading into the distance. I looked back to the pen which was now hovering above a page with the vague image of their distinctive emblem emerging from my other scribbles, the X Men. I admired them in some respects, their determination to help us one by one and hopes to stop the seemingly never ending hysteria around mutants. Yet I couldn't help but wonder if their efforts were for nothing. I'd never truly understood them and had only recently decided for myself that they did in fact have good intentions, only having heard titbits of news coverage and watching them from afar when our paths crossed.

I let the pen fall to lay flat on the page as my mind wandered. I'd always been interested in mutants, I found it fascinating to think how many were out there and what they were capable of, I often found myself looking out for any signs or hints of mutant activity in order to observe them. In consequence I was frequently able to locate one before they or the government did, often before the parents had even really taken much notice. As mutant genes are so diverse and individualised there are no real rules or regulations that being a mutant conforms to, yet we all suffer in the same way – we are all feared and ostracised. Which makes it easier for most to form bonds as our plight to be accepted unites us, in some cases uniting us against humans.

It was in a situation very similar this when I'd first seen them...

 _I watched from behind the cover of a large oak tree at the edge of the street, it was getting dark but the house across the street glowed with light. My fascination with the light being emitted from the core of the house was broken when a large jet started to descend onto the field across from me. I was shell shocked seeing such a large imposing machine in such an ordinary space and cowered slightly where I was hiding. The door extended down and three figures came out; a woman with striking white cropped hair, a man in a wheelchair and a second man who stalked out after them. The first two made their way towards the house just as the door opened and a small child (who I realised was the source of the light) stepped forward clutching his head. They didn't shy away as I'd expected but instead the woman walked over to him and reached for his hand, bringing him back over to the man in the wheelchair who gently placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. I could see that the man was gently talking to him and as he did so the light radiating from the boy's skin dimmed to a faint glow._

 _The other man, with brown unruly hair and an intimidating stance, at this point had come to stand behind them and I moved slightly to get a better look at him, as I did his shoulders tensed and his head swung round in my direction. I froze and held my breath praying he couldn't see me as his black eyes searched the grounds, I also vaguely wondered how he'd been able to hear me move but then dismissed myself._ He's a mutant of course, why else would he be here with them? _The woman started to lead the boy towards the plane and the man in the wheelchair went to follow before noticing the other's stiff posture. He looked up directly at me and met my frightened eyes. At which point I was paralysed,_ how can he see me up here?! _His eyes were kind and open with an age to them that didn't fit with his other features, as he looked at me his gaze softened and he smiled ever so slightly that I could have missed it in a blink and then turned to go. The second man relaxed slightly as he failed to spot me and had missed the odd exchange, he too went back to the plane._

Remembering back I could still see the kindness and knowledge in his eyes so clearly, Charles Xavier as I now knew him as was one of the only mutants I'd ever seen or heard of that truly had hope for our kind. His plight for our acceptance and co-existence with humans in peace inspired so many others to join him, while he pursued the constant task of reaching out to other young mutants in need of his help and support. I'd heard of his school for the gifted and had always wondered about what lies behind its gates, the concept of a school specifically for mutants being all but foreign to me.

My stomach let out a low grumble and I shook my head slightly as I focused back on the present, it had always been too easy for me to get lost in my own thoughts, _get a grip for god sake_. Now what I should really have been thinking about was getting out the tree I was happily perched in and finding something to eat. My stomach let out a growl of agreement and spurred me into climbing out of the tree, not too gracefully at that either. I looked down to where my knee had caught one of the branches to see that my jeans were now slightly scuffed and torn - not really differing much from the rest of my clothing which was getting worn out and too small... _I should probably look into getting some new stuff_.

I set off walking down the street and followed my gut in the hope that it would lead me to somewhere with food. Looking presentable hadn't been the top on my list of things to worry about over the past few years but I slowly realised it might need to be bumped up a few places in my priorities. I'd been walking aimlessly for 20 minutes when the sound of traffic started getting louder and I rounded the corner onto a larger street with several shops, _looks promising. C_ ontinuing along the street I passed a corner shop and a hardware store before finally spotting a small diner. I headed towards it probably a little to eagerly and the bell ringed above the door as I entered causing most of the diner's few customers to turn and look at me, most probably trying to figure out who I was and what I was here for. That's the problem with small towns, you never know where you're welcome. _Based on my experience you're never actually welcome._ Their stares and appraisals made me acutely aware of my rather dishevelled appearance but luckily my hunger was too pressing to let me dwell on that issue for two long.

I went up to the counter and a young girl, probably only just 16, was poised behind the till clacking her jaw together as she mulled over a piece of gum. Unlike everyone else she was too concentrated on something with her nails to look up on my arrival and took no notice of my approaching. I coughed slightly to catch her attention and she looked up at me, her stare accusing me of interrupting something important

"Can I help you?" she had a strong distinctive twang to her voice that made my reply seem even more out of place and out of town.

"Err yeah... please may I have something to eat and drink?" my request sounded timid, I hate being like this around people. At my request she gave me a quick once over, wondering probably if I was likely to pay for it or run. _Shit. I haven't got any money! Well fuck._ Despite my inner dilemma I tried to keep calm and I looked to the blackboard on the wall behind her, picking out the cheapest items on the menu – _water and toast, how filling, really shoulda thought first before I let my stomach rule my brain._ Just as I was summoning up the courage in my voice to make my order - without sounding like a wuss with no money - a hand appeared on the counter next to me, a large slim male one. "whatcha havin darlin?"

I looked up and beside me was a young man, with blonde hair brushed back off his face, he had a slim jaw with a vague smattering of stubble. His features were soft but with a slighlty amused and mischievous glint to them, as though he was always in on some sort of joke. I was unable to decipher exactly what his intention was but deemed him mostly harmless so I answered him warily "I was just going to order a glass of water and some toast."

He smiled and turned to the girl behind the till, who was waiting rather impatiently while watching the exchange with a quizzical expression, "Two large cups of coffee and some sandwiches please" his order puzzled me, as did the way he simply placed a few bills on the counter before turning to sit at a nearby table. I was still stood at the counter perplexed as to who he was and what he was doing, not quite processing what had happened when I heard him whistle. Looking over he had kicked out the chair opposite him and was looking at me expectantly.

"Why?" was all I could ask as I sat in the chair he had offered to me.

"Because why not? You're a pretty girl, on your own, obviously away from home and you looked like you could do with a friend" he eyes gleamed with a gentle kindness while his tone was very matter of fact. It made me marvel at the nature of human kindness and I wondered briefly if he would have acted the same way if he knew I was a mutant. _Stop worrying about that and just accept his offer! You're pretty lucky he wasn't looking to harass you like most of the guy's you've met, at least try to be nice to him._ I smiled shyly and thanked him, "So what's your name?" I was secretly intrigued by this stranger and his random act of kindness.

"John, yours?" he seemed relaxed and at ease, unlike most would be when talking to a stranger.

"Laura" it felt weird to say it out loud, I'd not really had much interaction with people recently, and even I had been close to before had stopped wanting to talk to me eventually.

Our food came and we ate in comfortable silence, although it wasn't exactly silent with the speed and enthusiasm at which I wolfed the sandwiches down. _Way to make a good first impression, he probably thinks your some kind of feral animal after that!_ But he didn't seem to notice and was content in watching people pass the window as he drank his coffee. I hadn't realised how much I'd been neglecting myself until the first sip of warm, milky, sugary coffee passed my lips – _God I needed this._ We dropped into conversation quite easily, I didn't have to tell him much as he seemed happy enough to tell me about himself while I took in the surroundings of the diner – the faded leather on the seats, the worn out posters and photos on the wall, markings and dents in the varnished wood of the table, the gentle ticking of the clock on the far wall, the static of the radio behind the counter. It wasn't until I realised he had stopped talking that I became aware of him watching me. "Where are you going? What are you looking for pretty girl?"

I stumbled a little at his questions "w-what do you mean?" I looked away averting my gaze from him, his questions were unnerving and I'd felt a shift in the atmosphere between us. _Bout time to make my exit I think._

After a brief silence that had seemed to stretch on forever he got up from the table and as he walked by me he bent down to me ear "Look. You're different and I know how that feels but hiding from it won't make it go away, so stop running from yourself. There's no point in having gifts if you don't use them." And with that he left, but where he'd placed his hand on my shoulder there was a lingering warmth and as I turned to look I could see the small, fading flicker of an ember on my sleeve. _I don't remember seeing him with a lighter or cigarette…_ Then it dawned on me. _A mutant. I should have guessed_.

With a bit of a reality check I decided I was finally going to accept my fate. I was a mutant and it was time to believe in myself.


	2. Finding my feet

I don't own anything from the original X-Men comic or movie franchise as the characters are owned by them not me, this story is just a piece of my imagination that's stands outside of the base story for my own creative outlet. Although if you don't like it then don't blame me, you can blame the ones who created the original stuff! ;) :P

His words echoed in my mind as I watched the traffic pass, not really seeing the vehicles as they went by - my mind was racing, as though it had finally been woken up after years of being asleep. It was hard not to reflect on the recent period of my life, _how_ _long_ _has_ _it_ _been_ _now_? Running from myself was easier to do than expected, choosing to focus on other mutants instead. I'd been hitchhiking between towns following the trail of mutants wherever it took me and not exactly thinking about where I ended up - time simply just flew by without any meaning. _Well, looks like time's finally caught up with me._

A heavy rattling distracted me from my thoughts, I looked for the source of the noise and discovered that it was a clattering horse trailer on the back of a truck heading down a side road to my left. I decided it was time to get out of here and find somewhere to sort my head out - _s'about time really._ Gingerly getting up from the diner seat and noticing the stiffness in my limbs I resolved to work on my fitness in the near future.

The trailer wasn't hard to catch up to and I found it parked in the open driveway of a modest ranch-like style house a minute off the main road. A middle aged and well-dressed man emerged from a gate to the right side of the house pulling a horse, a gorgeous chestnut brown mature stallion. Following them was another man, much older than the first and nowhere near as well presented, in fact he was rather coarse looking with a cigarette hanging from his lips and unidentifiable stains on his supposedly "white" shirt. I moved so that I was mostly hidden from view behind the sparse hedging that defined the perimeter of the lot. It wasn't hard to guess which of the two were the driver of the truck and the owner of the horse.

Waiting until the stallion was settled in the back and the owner was upfront discussing something with the driver I noiselessly made my way to the trailer. It was easy enough if you got your timing right, _and I've certainly had enough practice_. The horse whinnied gently at my approach but didn't bristle when I went to brush my fingers through his mane. I took this as a sign of acceptance and stooped to sit in the far corner, using the horse and shaded corners of the cabin as coverage of my presence. A few minutes passed, the horses gentle noises hiding the sound of my breathing, before the engine stuttered to life. It somehow felt different this time as we pulled away from another nameless town, even though I was just heading off to who knows where again like always, I finally felt as if I'd found some sense of direction.

The driver's music tastes were rather surprising as old country western music had been floating from the front of the truck for the past hour. I'd forgotten how much I'd loved music when I was younger, even listening to it now made my limbs tingle with absence – missing the sensation of dancing and the flow of music as it glides around you. I'd always loved the way music would swirl around me in the air in an array of colours and textures, bright flashes of green mixed with slow trickling hues of oranges and yellows.

The ride was bumpy, jolting me against the side of the trailer on several occasions and I vaguely wondered where we were heading. _Any where'll do, I just finally need to get my head sorted_. And with that thought I closed my eyes and concentrated, gradually starting to break down the walls that had been up far too long.

It was dark when we stopped and I waited to hear the driver's fading footsteps before stretching my legs out and sitting up just enough look between the gaps in the side of the trailer. _Just a service station, great_. I debated with making my departure or staying put for the rest of the journey but was interrupted by the horse who had knelt to rest beside me. He'd not been bothered about my joining him for the ride and now simply looked at me with calculating brown eyes. I'd always thought of horses as clever animals, gentle and placid mostly but undoubtedly wise. As the horse assessed me I carefully reached out to place my palm against his cheek and muzzle – on contact my mind was clouded with a sense of curiosity and sympathy. It was something I'd been very much used to when I was younger – picking up on people's emotions – I was just somehow attuned to them.

It always seemed fairly normal being able to sense how someone was feeling and of course physical contact would just make the connection stronger. Only when I started hearing what people were thinking did things feel a little odd. I wouldn't quite say that I could hear people's thoughts, not in the traditional sense; I just seemed to pick up on them if I concentrated on a person for long enough or if their thoughts were strong enough. Obviously this just meant the usual ones that would come through were either in some form of distress or the annoying opposite – overly happy. _How long does it take to get gas_? Realising that the driver was most likely not going to return till morning I settled beside the horse, focusing my mind on retracing the familiar patterns of thoughts and emotions as I mentally reached out, gradually opening myself up to the sensations again.

I was watching the particles of dust as they drifted in the faint beam of morning light that streamed through slots in the trailer walls when I heard footsteps approach. The horse rose to its feet and I shuffled into the corner as it moved to block me from view, the driver ambled to the back of the trailer throwing in a stack of hay before making his way back into the truck. The engine grumbled to life and once again we were on the road.

Previously these journeys would have been filled with a numbness in which I would simply switch off in order to stop my mind from drifting. But this time I filled the time familiarising myself with all the things I'd neglected; allowing myself to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, listening to the wind as it whipped past the trailer, reaching out to see the road ahead through the driver eye's and picturing the music as it faintly drifted through the truck's open window. When we finally stopped I was filled with an optimism for what would greet me, it was strangely new and I welcomed it gladly. I listened for the driver's greeting to the person destined to take the horse out of his hands and stood up brushing myself off. I patted the horse's muzzle whispering "thanks for the hospitality!" before heading to make my exit, _if only humans would be so accommodating_. Climbing out of the trailer was trickier than I had planned and I thanked the drivers need to gossip and digress for covering my exit, having gathered myself from the slightly awkward landing I dashed into the line of trees at the side of the road and made my way onward following the sounds of traffic.

Promisingly the roads got busier and I soon found myself on the sidewalk of a street, not dissimilar to the last but notably larger and busy, _thank god it's not another small town in the middle of nowhere_. I scrutinised the surrounding shops hoping to catch sight of somewhere to get a change of clothes, however I was aware that I didn't want to end up in the same mess as I did in the diner. Spotting a man waiting in line at a cash machine a vague plan started forming in my head, _well I guess it's worth a shot_. I made my way over to him as he stepped up to the machine, plastering a smile on my face I took a deep breath and prayed for the best. "Hey dad! Fancy getting a couple of hundred out for me? I spotted this gorgeous dress earlier that would be perfect for that party!" His confused expression at my addressing him slowly morphed into a neutral one as I concentrated on his reply.

"Sure honey..." his voice wavered slightly as he complied, most likely not altogether sure why he was doing so. Luckily for me he simply handed the money over, I kissed him on the cheek and headed off to the clothes store across the street. The exhilaration at my success slowly crept through and I smiled to myself - _a little rusty, clearly, but not too bad!_

The doors slid open and I was greeted by a store assistant "Can I help you?" her smile was just a little too attentive and I remembered the state of my appearance.

"No thanks, just here to pick up a few essentials" I answered, hoping it would be enough to appease her as I made my way into the store.

I saw her blonde ponytail swishing in the corner of my eye as she turned back to whatever she had been doing and I started on the task of stocking up. First was a new bag, a backpack to carry everything and to replace the one I've got – deciding on a patchwork one in a variety of blues I then headed off to get some new shoes. The grey converse I'd been wearing were scuffed beyond recognition and the soles were practically worn to nonexistence. I picked up a replacement pair of lace-ups in black, _practical enough_. I'd never been too fussed with shopping and it didn't take long before I'd left the store with a bag containing new underwear, several basic t-shirts and vests with varied logos on, a few pairs of shorts and jeans – more lightweight and a little more fitted than my current ones as the weather was starting to improve- and finally a cosy zipped up hoodie to replace to the too small jacket I'd been wearing. Pleased with the purchases and the fact that I had about $30 left I went to find the nearest restroom and swapped over my old stuff for the new, packing whatever was left into my new backpack and bagging up my old clothes for trash. With a renewed confidence I headed out in search of ways to test my newfound courage.


End file.
